Five People Gil and Greg Never Met
by Scifiroots
Summary: A single case attracts an interesting array of people, and a case of mistaken identity leads a certain agent to call on Grissom. GilGreg


Five People Gil and Greg Never Met...

**DISCLAIMERS APPLY:** (CSI LV, special appearances from The Dead Zone, Psych, X-Files, Stargate SG-1, and Manhunter / Silence of the Lambs)  
**Rating:** FRTeen, no real warnings, just silliness  
Gil/Greg  
**Summary:** A single case attracts an interesting array of people, and a case of mistaken identity leads a certain agent to call on Grissom. (for auabc challenge "Xover")  
January 22, 2007 (finished)

----

**JOHN SMITH**

"Do we have any witnesses?"

"Thought you'd never ask. We've got an interesting one, come and meet a Mr. John Smith."

Greg looked up from where he was crouched by the blood pool to exchange a skeptical look with Gil.

"Sofia?" Gil prompted.

She smiled serenely. "His identification confirms it. We'll have to run it for sure, but it seems legit. At least his friend has a real name, a Bruce Lewis."

"Right, please introduce me."

Greg shook his head as they walked away.

**SHAWN SPENCER**

Greg shuffled the printouts into a folder as he headed towards the interview room—not quite as menacing as the interrogation rooms. He knocked before entering and stopped halfway to the table.

"What the..." he muttered, eyebrows arching in confusion.

Gil leaned back in his chair, arms crossed and expression unimpressed. Two men sat—well, one did—across the table. The unassuming, nicely dressed man (the seated one) seemed to be meditatively breathing, his eyes narrowed in obvious annoyance. His companion wore a loud T-shirt with bleached jeans, had wild hair that could rival Greg's, and was currently making a strange humming noise while fluttering his fingers at his temples.

Gil cast Greg a sidelong glance and rolled his eyes; it was enough to make Greg grin.

"Mr. Spencer," Gil cut in, leaning forward. "We've already had a so-called psychic approach us on this case."

Spencer suddenly stopped the strange noise. His nostrils flared and he lowered his arms very deliberately. "I know," he said, his voice unnaturally deep. "The air is muddled with interfering psychic vibrations. He may be slightly skilled... not nearly as much as me! Take into consideration what I say—"

Gil stood up and turned to Greg, completely ignoring the other men. "I'll take the file, Greg. You can finish up in here."

"Gee, thanks, Boss," Greg said with a small grimace. Gil smirked, small enough that it was doubtful anyone else caught it. _You'd better make this worth it later_, Greg expressed with his eyes. Gil's twinkled in response as he passed.

Spencer focused in on Greg. "CSI... Sss... Sand... Sandburg? No... Sand—"

Greg took a seat. "Sanders," he finished. "So what do you have to share?"

**FOX MULDER**

"Okay, who's sending in the nutcases?" Catherine demanded when she finally tracked down Gil and Greg (innocently doing work in one of the evidence rooms—Gil never let them do anything fun at work).

It was on the tip of his tongue to ask "what do you mean?" but Gil answered quicker; "Who is it now?"

"The guy insists he needs to be seen by as few people as possible and won't talk in the interview or interrogation rooms. He's some ex-agent or something, convinced there's men in black suits after him," Catherine said with an eye-roll.

Gil shook his head and stepped away from the table. "Take him to my office, then. I'm beginning to think there's something to these unusual claims."

"Starting to believe in the paranormal?" Greg grinned. Gil's sharp look didn't dampen his enthusiasm. "I want in on this conversation!"

"Keep with the evidence," Gil said in the tone that brooked no argument. Greg deflated but accepted it.

"Did we get a name?" Gil asked as he walked with Catherine towards the door.

She frowned. "He said it under his breath but it sounded like... Mulder?" Greg's head shot up. That name seemed familiar... After a few minutes he forced himself to shrug it off. He'd have to ask Gil about it later.

**DANIEL JACKSON, SAMANTHA CARTER**

"What possible interest could the military have with this investigation?" Greg was exasperated by the stubborn blond who continued to disregard him.

Her companion gave him an apologetic smile. "Classified."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. My boss is gonna be here in a minute and you'll have to explain that to him," Greg said. He'd hurried after them as they headed towards the morgue; now they were at the doors, ready to step through into Doc Robin's domain. Hopefully Gil would be down soon.

"We've got the access," Dr. Carter said casually. "Nothing you can do about that."

"Yeah? Well you've got to let us know what's going on. It's our case!"

Dr. Jackson—although neither doctor was a M.D.—again sketched out an apology. "Sorry, you know the military mind." Greg blinked at the other man, noting the separation that statement implied.

"Excuse me, what are you doing down here?" Good ol' Doc, getting straight to the point. Without looking at Greg, he asked, "These are the two Grissom called me about?"

"Yup. He's on his way?"

"He's here," Gil said dryly as he walked in behind them. "Doctors, would you care to explain to me what this is about?"

**CLARICE STARLING**

"That...was ridiculous." Catherine drummed her fingers on the table, eyes narrowed in annoyance.

"Military takeover," Greg muttered, sulking over a cup of coffee. "And it was such an interesting case, too!"

Gil snorted quietly. "Obviously why it had so much attention."

"Don't you wonder what it was all about?" Greg gulped down a mouthful of caffeine and wished it was the good stuff. Typical break room coffee sucked.

Gil shrugged a little too casually. "Not much we can do about it now."

Catherine smiled self-deprecatingly. "Just remember this as a good mystery story to tell. It all sounds a little fantastic, anyway."

"Two psychics, incognito ex-FBI agent with an interest in the paranormal, and mysterious military types? Sounds normal to me!" Greg said.

Sara rapped her knuckles on the doorframe. "Sorry to interrupt. Grissom, there's someone to see you, she had enough authority to go straight to your office."

"Don't tell me we were taken by a couple of phonies," Catherine groaned.

Gil frowned. "I don't think so. Let me figure this out, I'll be back in a while."

"Yeah? Well don't be too long, I'm hungry and overworked!" Greg called to the retreating back. Catherine smirked and patted his hand.

---

"How may I help you?" Gil asked after he'd closed the door to his office and shook hands with Special Agent Clarice Starling.

They sat down with the desk between them. Starling stared at him for a few moments, seemingly memorizing his features. "Excuse me if I'm prying, but I'm working on a very important case and need to know. Were you once a member of the FBI, known as William Graham?"

Gil blinked in surprise. What? "I believe you've mistaken me for someone else. What led you to that conclusion?"

Starling did not look convinced. "Sir, I checked all the files that the FBI still has regarding William Graham. He was formerly the lead agent on a very special case—Hannibal Lector? I have since been involved in the case. Anything you could provide... I would not disclose your whereabouts or even mention your name. The overall case is more important than the source of my leads."

Shaking his head, Gil said firmly, "Agent Starling, I can assure you that I have no idea what you're talking about." He paused. "I do recognize Lector's name, but as for that investigation I know no more than what is available to the public."

She looked less sure now. "You look very much like Mr. Graham. Aging the last photograph of Mr. Graham on file led me here. It didn't seem implausible for him to reappear in another investigative field."

Gil raised his hands in an imitation of surrender. "I'm sure you can verify my history. I have never lived under another name. I am sorry that I cannot help you."

Starling smiled a little sadly. "That's alright. It was worth the chance." She stood up and extended her hand. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Grissom."

---

"She thought you'd been in on the investigation of Hannibal the Cannibal?" Greg asked with shock as Gil unlocked the door.

"That was the ridiculous name the tabloids gave the case," Gil stated.

"So? It fits."

"I thought you were sick of cases? After lunch you claimed the necessity of sleep."

Greg abandoned his former thread and grinned. "Well... not so tired yet. Think I'm too wound up. Want to help wear me out?"

Gil raised an eyebrow at the very unsubtle attempt at seduction. Greg beamed in response.

"After you," Gil gave in gracefully, a small smile easing his expression.

Greg leapt forward for a brief, intense kiss. "Come on Mr. Graham, my lover's due back any minute."

"Then we'd better hurry."

**FIN**


End file.
